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SAY, foolish females, bold and blind,
Say, by what fatal turn of mind,
Are you on vices most severe,

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Wherein yourselves have greatest share ?
Thus ev'ry fool herself `deludes;

The prudes condemn the absent prudes :
Mopfa, who stinks her spouse to death,
Accufes Chloe's tainted breath;
Hircina, rank with fweet, prefumes
To cenfure Phillis for perfumes;

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Cries, "Lord, the world is fo cenforious !"

And Rufa, with her combs of lead,

Whispers that Sappho's hair is red:

Aura, whose tongue you hear a mile hence,

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Talks half a day in praise of filence:

And Sylvia, full of inward guilt,
Calls Amoret an arraht jilt.

Now voices over voices rise,
While each to be the loudest vies;
They contradict, affirm, difpute,
No fingle tongue one moment mutę;
All mad to speak, and none to hearken,
They fet the very lap dog barking;
Their chatt'ring makes a louder din
Than fishwives o'er a cup of gin:
Not schoolboys at a barring-out
Rais'd ever fuch inceffant rout:

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The jumbling particles of matter
In chaos made not such a clatter;
Far lefs the rabble roar and rail,
When drunk with four election-ale.

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Nor do they trust their tongue alone, But speak a language of their own ;

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Can read a nod, a shrug, a look,
Far better than a printed book;
Convey a libel in a frown,
And wink a reputation down :
Or, by the toffing of the fan,

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"Here, Betty, let me take my drops;
"And feel my pulfe, I know it stops:
"This head of mine, Lord, how it fwims!
And fuch a pain in all my limbs !"
Dear Madam, try to take a nap-
But now they hear a footman's rap:
"Go run, and light the ladies up:
"It must be one before we fup."

THE table, cards, and counters fet,
And all the gamefter ladies met,
Her fpleen and fits recover'd quite,
Our Madam can fit up all night;

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"Whoever comes, I'm not within.". Quadrille's the word, and fo begin.

How can the muse her aid impart,
Unfkill'd in all the terms of art?
Or in harmonious numbers put
The deal, the fhuffle, and the cut?
The fuperftitious whims relate,
That fill a female gamefter's pate?
What agony of foul fhe feels
To fee a knave's inverted heels?
She draws up card by card to find
Good fortune peeping from behind;

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With panting heart, and earneft eyes,
In hope to fee Spadillo rife:

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In vain, alas! her hope is fed;

She draws an ace, and fees it red.

In ready counters never pays,

But pawns her fnuff box, rings, and keys;
Ever with fome new fancy ftruck,

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Tries twenty charms to mend her luck.

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This morning, when the parfon came,

“ I said I should not win a game.

"This odious chair, how came I stuck in't?

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"I think I never had good luck in't,

I'm fo uneafy in my stays;

"Your fan a moment, if you please.
"Stand further, girl, or get you gone;
"I always lose when you look on."

Lord! Madam, you have loft Codill:
I never faw you play fo ill.

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“Nay, Madam, give me leave to say

"'Twas you that threw the game away;

"When Lady Trickfey play'd a four,

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"You took it with a mattadore;

"I faw you touch your wedding ring

"Before my Lady call'd a king;

"You spoke a word began with H,

"And I know whom you meant to teach,

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"Because you held the king of hearts;

"Fie, Madam. leave thefe little arts."
That's not fo bad as one that rubs
Her chair to call the king of clubs,
And makes her partner understand
A mattadore is in her hand

"Madam, you have no cause to flounce,

"Ifwear I faw you thrice renounce."
And truly, Madam, I know when
Instead of five you scor'd me ten.
Spadillo here has got a mark;
A child may know it in the dark;

I guess the hand; it feldom fails:

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I wish fome folks would pare their nails.

WHILE thus they rail, and fcold, and ftorm,

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As if they had but just begun.
Yet fhall I not again repeat,

How oft they fquabble, fnarl, and cheat.
At laft they hear the watchman knock,
A frofty morn -paft four o'clock.
The chairmen are not to be found,

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Come, let us play the other round,"

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Now, all in hafte they huddle on

Their hoods and cloaks, and get them

gone;

But firft the winner muft invite

The company to-morrow night.

UNLUCKY Madam, left in tears,
(Who now against Quadrille forfwears),
With empty purse and aching head,
Steals to her sleeping spouse to bed.

The

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COUNTRY-LIFE.

Bart of a summer spent at the house of GEORGE ROCHFORT, Efq;

Wrtiten in the year 1723.

THALIA, tell in fober lays,

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How George, Nim, Dan. Dean pafs their days.

Begin, my mufe. First from our bow'rs

We fally forth at diff'rent hours;

At feven the Dean, in night-gown dreft,
Goes round the houfe to wake the reft;
At nine, grave Nim and George facetious
Go to the Dean to read Lucretius;
At ten, my Lady comes and hectors,

And kiffes George, and ends our lectures;
And when she has him by the neck fast,

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Hawls him, and stolds us down to breakfast.

We fquander there an hour or more,

And then all hands boys, to the oar,

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Who neither time nor order kept;
But, by peculiar whimfies drawn,
Peeps in the ponds to look for fpawn
O'erfees the work, or Dragon * rows,
Or mars a text, or mends his hofe

R. 3

My Lord Chief Baron's fmaller boat.

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